


New Beginnings

by chantefable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Hogwarts, Marriage Proposal, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantefable/pseuds/chantefable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dissatisfied with the situation he finds himself in after death, Severus Snape comes back to haunt Britain, become a political activist, marry Minerva McGonagall, and revolutionise ghost cuisine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Minerva Fest 2012.  
> Includes references to Anthony Trollope (specifically the first lines of _The Journey to Panama_ ) and other classics.

It was once said that there was perhaps no form of life in which men and women found themselves existing – for a time – a life so far from their customary, conventional experience as that on board large ocean steamers.

The same could hardly be said, of course, of the passage to afterlife. For one thing, despite the fact that people are much more likely to find themselves between life and death than on board of an ocean steamer – it might bear mentioning that, with due determination and circumstances allowing, one may very well avoid setting foot on board of an ocean steamer at all, or any sea vessel, for that matter, but to the present day people frequently find themselves dead despite any precautions and prayers they might have employed to achieve the contrary; the few exceptions only prove the rule and, let's face it, are _very_ few and far between – in other words, despite the fact that the journey from the world of the living to the world of the dead (if one is poetically inclined to call it that) is, in reality, a much more commonplace situation for any person than that involving a large ocean steamer, one could hardly, in good conscience, call the former _a form of life_. Indeed, even _existence_ might be stretching the truth to breaking point.

Moreover, it must be said that the temporary existence these men and women endure on that inevitable voyage, between their last heartbeat and the hazy, murky beyond somewhere over the metaphysical horizon, reminds one so horribly of the mundane, conventional life one has just left, that any person with enough wits about them to be a little more than an imprint of their past self or a glob of soul-matter must instantly wish to be transported to an actual ocean steamer instead, no matter how tedious or appalling they found them originally.

And so it can hardly come as a surprise that the moment Severus Snape realised that the transition from the point of death to what was after involved being stuck on a spiritual equivalent of public transportation – loud and utterly ordinary to the minute detail, so very customary and unoriginal that one could not call it anything other than it was: _a bloody train_ – filled with more people he ever had the patience to tolerate even when his own life depended on the matter, he wished to be gone from it. Now, when it was obvious that his life could hardly depend on the amiability he was expected to display, since he no longer had a life to boast, his patience was wearing thinner with each passing second. And it wasn't even a particularly nice train.

However, it was only when Severus Snape fully comprehended that the voyage, so far proving to be immensely taxing on his social skills (which he had already all but exhausted during a lifetime of overuse, and was now inclined to employ only very sparingly, if at all), was going to involve incessant layered communication, peculiar politics and insipid intrigues, all requiring that he exhibit appropriate reactions, from distrust and dislike to affability and concern (all excessively cumbersome, and therefore not something he hoped to experience, or pretend to experience, now that his life was over and done with), that he decided that the whole charade hardly merited more than his profound aversion. He was resolved to ignore his travelling companions altogether, paying no mind to their chatter, their memories, their hopes, their alliances, their gossip, their smoking, and their never-ending games of bridge.

But when all pieces of the puzzle slotted into place, from the torturously slow pace of time to the evident absence of any reason for any of them to be in a hurry to the sheer ubiquity of torpid, insignificant conversation assaulting his ears, with people forming friendships and enmities as if – well, as if they were having the time of their lives on a lovely cruise on board of a bloody ocean steamer! – only then did it dawn on Severus Snape that he might very well spend an eternity, or a conceivable equivalent, on a train moving at a hellish crawl towards what awaited them beyond. And there were absolutely no guarantees about the quality and content of whatever it was that Severus was going to find there, none at all, except this: all those other people were heading there, too.

At this, the thin thread of his patience understandably snapped, and, overwhelmed by the desire to no longer be subjugated to the activity nor the company forced upon him during his (presumably short, though what way of measuring did he have?) existence as a decidedly dead person of considerable intelligence and short temper, Severus Snape got off the train.

As with most 'mind over matter' things, it turned out to be much easier done than explained with any means of the human language.

And so, thinking that Albus and the rest of them could very well sod off with their pompous ideas of 'moving on', Severus Snape briskly and efficiently made his way back to where the living, breathing, and sweating were, and had there been anyone there to see him, they would have noticed something very much like cheerfulness and mischief visible in the lines of his face and the smoothness of his glide.

***

It is constantly the case that ghosts are ignored, overlooked, or casually disregarded while the rest of the world is busy with their daily pursuits.

Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore spent centuries being ignored by the Department of Magical Games and Sports, unable to achieve Ministry subsidies for the annual Headless Hunt Games, and only the steadfast support of British headless hunters made him persevere. 

The Wailing Widow of Kent took her leave with a feeling of outraged ghostly pride when the family residing at her erstwhile home rebuilt her bedroom (and place of death) into a sports room without as much as a warning. 

Although Professor Binns' intellect was undimmed by his death, his academic career was greatly inconvenienced by it, and his eventual disenchantment with the publishing houses, shockingly prejudiced against lifeless contributors and scandalously disinclined to pay them, finally caused him to abandon the idea of finishing all those promising, panoramic anthologies he never had the time to finish when he was still alive.

One might quote dozens of similar examples, for such is the sad truth: while some ghosts have a naturally gloomy disposition, it most certainly does not apply to all of them, and almost all ghosts lead a gloomy, morose life not because that is their wont (those are the lucky few, to have their desires and circumstances coincide so wonderfully), but because they lack opportunity to do anything more exciting than rattle a chain or two and howl at the injustice of it all.

Such was the state of existence – for one would not presume to call it a _life_ , given such a glaring absence of respect, prospects, and entertainment – of the ghosts of Britain when Severus Snape appeared in their midst like a blazing comet. For once unhindered by any other obligations and with plenty of time on his hands, he applied his keen spirit and brilliant intelligence to achieve justice for his kind. The support from the ghostly community was heartfelt and unanimous; the reaction from the living, mixed and wary. However, given that decorum demanded that a dour-faced decorated war hero could not be simply overlooked, regardless of his level of transparency, particularly when he took to haunting the Ministry and the previously peaceful homes of high-ranking employees with the tenacity of a Red Cap smelling fresh blood on a dark night, one can easily imagine the swiftness with which the necessary people experienced a change of heart on the ghostly matters.

Of course, Severus Snape was hardly satisfied with mild concessions, and had little patience for the volubility of bureaucratic eloquence with which these placating measures were expressed. He sought equal opportunity and a vast range of options. He sought employment and pensions. He sought integration; and although he could hardly describe himself as a man with a passion for foxtrot, he honestly thought that making sure that the ghosts actually received invitations to balls, thus having the chance to accept or decline, instead of being forced to gatecrash every time, was as noble a cause as any.

In this Severus was supported by the charming Miss Luna Lovegood, who made sure he always had good press, and the insufferable prat who, given the perspective granted by the years and, well, _death_ was now more annoying than insufferable, and could actually make himself useful at charity galas by awkwardly flapping his hands and asking for help, which invariably resulted in more Galleons for one haunted Abbey or the other. Several other former colleagues and acquaintances, including the distinguished Hogwarts Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, expressed their support of the endeavour in word and deed, speaking up for ghost rights and offering jobs to those who were eager for respite after decades of lingering in the shadows.

The aforementioned campaign proved to be as lengthy as it was energetic; but, as it has been mentioned before, Severus Snape happened to have quite a bit of spare time, and besides, passing minutes felt differently to him. Really, once he got the hang of it, the business of being a ghost turned out to be quite exciting and even frivolous, for Severus could have hardly imagined his past corporeal self paying so much attention to the proper maintenance of his outward appearance (as a result, he was rather fetchingly translucent and could be impressively solid when he desired) or being so enthusiastic about exploring various ghostly pleasures, from the traditional cuisine (which needed radical improvement, but Severus was working on it) to bathing in the moonlight (which did wonders for fashionable pallor and toned the ghostly matter that we shall refer to as muscle). 

And so anyone will have to agree that it was a very dashing, important, and busy man who floated to the gates of Hogwarts Castle on August 31, 2012, graciously agreeing to replace Professor Binns as soon as it became known that the Wailing Widow had whisked him away for an impromptu honeymoon vacation in Bora Bora.

***

It is remarkable how short and delusive life is, and, as a result, life's sweet romances are short-lived and delusive as well. But once one has made it past the mark of death, the strength, duration, and quality of affection can increase in many ways, and the loyalty and stability on offer can surely entice even the most demanding of lovers. This truth has not yet been universally acknowledged, which might explain why oxygen-consuming ladies were not strategically swooning following the trajectory of Severus Snape's glide at the time when he had been unattached; now, however, they are all doomed to disappointment.

A few words of explanation.

As soon as he found himself employed, in a temporary capacity, as the teacher of History of Magic, Severus proceeded to reacquaint himself with the castle and its inhabitants. The renovations met with his approval: there was more light and less mold, a development he could not help welcoming. Parts of Hogwarts were solid, solemn, and silent, while others were abuzz with activity, vibrant and refreshingly alive, with cosy, cunning nooks and crannies here and there. All in all, a decent sight.

The children were... _there_. There were a lot of them. Nothing original.

There were some additions and changes to the staff, but although Severus was not entirely disinterested in their qualifications and life stories, or the changes to the curriculum, fascinating as they no doubt were, he could hardly begin to focus on such insignificant details when one face in particular commanded his attention, one mind shone to him brighter than all the rest, one voice hypnotised him with its assurance and lovely cadence. 

To call it love at first sight would have been a marked misinterpretation of the truth, for this was decidedly not the first time Severus laid eyes on Minerva McGonagall; objectively, it wasn't even the second time they renewed their acquaintance, but more like third and a half, for they had already met after Severus had died, and even danced at the Ministry Yule ball in 2010.

Some might even begin to doubt whether describing it as 'love' is adequate, when 'infatuation' could also characterise the way Severus was enraptured by the authoritative manner in which Minerva outlined their new educational strategies over tea and cookies so fragrant and appetising they tickled even Severus' senses, while Minerva's decision to not only tolerate, but to encourage and expand any possible advances to the point of tasteful flirting during that very first tea-time in the Headmistress' Office, could be explained by a combination of typically Gryffindor boldness and _carpe diem_ spirit, aesthetic appreciation of Severus' finer qualities (for he had been rather a diamond in the rough in his breathing years, and now was simply _glowingly_ handsome) and scientific appreciation of substantial and transubstantial magical challenges intrinsic to any hypothetical attempt at exploring a ghost's passions, and perhaps a touch of collector's mania, for the list of Minerva's previous admirers included Curse-breakers, duellists, scholars, werewolves, and vampires, but both former students and ghosts happened to be off the list, and the situation allowed her to hit two Manticores with the same spell.

Still, it was most definitely love, and one of the most romantic nature, at that, seeing as the fierce affection Severus felt did not stem merely from the fact that Minerva had the most bright eyes (though those were not without attraction) or was rather good at magic (which is a dramatic understatement), but rather from the appreciation of all the aspects of Minerva's character, including pride, stubbornness, and disregard for amorous pursuits in bedchambers other than her own (which was, much to Severus' disappointment, not an idiosyncrasy that he had the good fortune to discover immediately). Their shared history only fanned the flames of this newfound frenzy, making the whole situation delightfully risqué, and Severus was completely undeterred by such foolish things as propriety or public opinion, refusing to let the fact that he was dead stand in the way of his happiness as he courted Minerva with most lavish and extravagant magical displays. 

The lady in question, while originally surprised to acquire such a steadfast and persistent admirer in this quarter, found the idea of swirling above the dance floor with dozens of floating candles and skinny-dipping in the moonlight not entirely abhorrent; and although in the beginning the fact that she was carrying an affair with a subordinate was giving Minerva mild twinges of guilt, her straightforward sense of justice was satisfied as soon as she remembered that relationships among the staff members were not actually against the rules. Unwilling to see her private enjoyment of Severus' dry wit and lush intelligence terminated due to any sort of drivel sanctified by the regulations, she personally added a clause stipulating that the aforementioned relationships among the staff members were not to be prohibited regardless of the position occupied (teacher, administrator, etc.) or status obtained (namely, living person or ghost). Just in case this by all means pleasant, refreshing adventure turned into a more permanent arrangement.

As for the delicate power imbalance, seeing as Minerva still was Severus' superior, well, it only made for a more titillating experience.

While the strength of Minerva's attachment and the speed with which it progressed were somewhat behind Severus' own, he was by no means discouraged, and simply spared no time or effort to secure himself in Minerva's affections. If he employed an innocent trick and wrote Professor Binns convincing him to enjoy travelling with his new wife for another school semester, one could hardly begrudge him that small mischief, especially considering that by Easter, Severus' success in the domain of ardent passions vastly improved, surpassing even his remarkable achievements in the development of strong-flavoured yet pleasurable ghost food.

Minerva continued to find their companionship most invigorating, and their encounters most delightful, for the former provided her with numerous magical and political puzzles to solve, and the latter offered her the most delicious kind of distraction from the never-ending quest that was managing the most illustrious wizarding school in all of Europe.

The stimulating conversations, magical experiments, and exploration of various caresses, of the flesh or otherwise, continued to be most satisfying to both parties, and so it was no idle thought or spur of the moment, but the most logical, sensible conclusion that prompted Severus to ask, on a wine-dark June night, whether Minerva was at all inclined to become his wife the moment those dunderheads at the Ministry actually finalised the legislation which he had been working on so diligently with Minerva's invaluable support. And likewise, while some may find it hard to imagine that at the moment Minerva's hair was dishevelled and her dress was disordered, her breath still coming in short gasps as she reclined on the bed, one can hardly be surprised that she smiled and said 'yes'.

Eventually.


End file.
